


now dismissed

by ever_increasing_circles



Category: British Comedian RPF, Pointless RPF
Genre: Community: cottoncandy_bingo, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:27:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_increasing_circles/pseuds/ever_increasing_circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander's old university songs still hold memory for Richard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now dismissed

**Author's Note:**

> For the square "music" at cottoncandy_bingo.
> 
>  
> 
> Any similarity between the fictional versions of the people portrayed here and the actual people is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Alexander returned to the sitting room, tray of hot drinks in hand, to find Richard stood by the shelf housing the CD player (and accompanying collection). He smiled as he set the tray down on the coffee table, "Something catch your eye?" He sat down on the sofa opposite, noting Richard's tiny jolt of surprise as he spoke. "... Or catch your ear, perhaps I should say?"

Richard had been running one finger along the spines, casting his gaze from title to title. For a moment he thought about denying any such thing, but vague curiosity won over all else. "You still have these CDs from Cambridge, then?"

"Oh!" Alexander looked surprised for a moment, as if he'd almost forgotten that fact. "I do, yes. That makes me some sort of narcissist, I suppose?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's nice to have a record of your performance, isn't it? Anyway, this is nothing. I couldn't begin to tell you about Mat's collection - going right back the way. Demos and experiments, things that worked, things that didn't... but you have to know where you're going wrong before you can get better, huh." He slid one of the CDs out from the shelf, glancing it over. "... I guess this isn't like that, though. Pretty fancy-looking production values, here."

"It's Cambridge, what do you expect? Tradition, tradition, tradition. I wouldn't want to be in the shoes of anybody who broke that chain. I'm sure there's somebody out there collecting all of them - people do, don't they?"

"You make it sound like a boyband."

"It's all about maintaining a core audience, my friend. ...They wouldn't keep making them if there wasn't a demand for them. And I'll bet that even if no other person wanted a record of such things, it's the sort of thing that families go _crazy_ for. I have these, but you want to see the collection my parents have!"

"Nothing wrong with pride where appropriate, Xander. You're a good singer, I can see how they'd be proud." He had the case open, slipping out the booklet to look for any liner notes.

"Well, many thanks. You flatter me." Alexander watched Richard with the CD for a few seconds. "...Did you want to put it on?"

Richard looked up, as if the thought hadn't occurred to him. "What?"

"You seemed so wrapped up in it, I thought you wanted to. You don't have to, of course."

"I was just seeing what the notes said. Checking out the date." A smile. "Working out how old you were when this was recorded." He put the CD back on the shelf, making his way over to the sofa himself, not wanting to let the hot drinks cool. He hadn't meant to start any sort of detailed retrospective on those old recordings, but could see the look in Alexander's eyes that meant that he was thinking. Depended on which CD it was and the time of year and--...

Richard had those CDs as well - some of them, if not all of them - although he didn't know if Alexander was aware of this fact. It had been decades now, and he felt it probably best not to spring up with a ' _did you know-_ ' all of a sudden. Alexander kept those CDs proudly on his shelf, as well he should, but Richard kept his elsewhere. On the surface, he knew there was little _strange_ about one keeping Cambridge choral music in plain view - perhaps somewhat incongruous with the rest of his collection, but who really had any sort of collection that _didn't_ have the odd point off the chart? A little further thought might bring somebody to _you went to Cambridge and you have these CDs from Cambridge_ and, again, seeing that as an appropriate conclusion, think no further on it. It would take a dedicated snoop to follow through on that particular kind of curiosity, looking through the smallprint to find Alexander's name - but it _was_ there to find, and Richard didn't like to risk it.

Alexander probably listened to those CDs, every now and then. His current performances too were 'every now and then' - and perhaps he would listen to the tracks contained and remember back when that really had been his _life_ , or most of it. Back when it had seemed a viable career choice, or at least a desirable one. His voice back then, trained and honed, perhaps less so now but not for want of desire. He'd always enjoyed singing and there was probably part of him still that missed it, although Alexander always insisted that he didn't regret having left it behind. To take such a thing on in a professional sense, it would have led to a very different life. A very single-minded concentration, complete dedication to the craft... something like that. Something different. Something that Alexander admired, but didn't envy.

Richard wasn't sure that Alexander was aware of it to this day, but felt like the one thing he found hardest to do was to close doors to himself. Richard could understand this, but felt very aware of how much their profession - 'their', for what little they shared - relied on compartments and labels and matching people to assigned roles with no complication. He was never sure if Alexander would find anything easier if he picked a role and stuck with it; perhaps so professionally, but likely never mentally. He'd started that double-act with Ben without telling his previous partner because - because _what_? Had he ever thought that he could balance his time between the two...? And then in the first place, splitting himself between the path set out for him, and that out-of-left-field strike of _comedy_.

Even then, performing or writing? Comedy formed around oneself, or channelled through characters? Comedy acting, or just _straight_ acting? That time that Alexander had confided to Richard, that he felt strange appearing in front of the camera _not_ in a role, just as himself - and that was years ago but oh, to look at things now and remember back then... would the Alexander who had leapt into that double-act with Ben have ever even thought to suspect that he would be presenting quiz shows, hosting panel shows, standing in front of the camera confident and _himself_ , so many years later? Had the Alexander entirely wrapped up in his choral duties ever thought that someday he'd put it aside, for _comedy_ no less...? Each step had felt so unlikely at the time (and Richard remembered each moment of unease), but everything had led on to something else, and Alexander seemed able now to maintain that balance. Comedy, with Ben. Daytime quiz shows, with Richard. Hosting and presenting there on his own, like the concept had never given him any second thought. There had been the prospect of Countdown, but that would have closed too many doors - taken up his time, angered the BBC. And Richard had held one open then, because why not? Because he didn't like to see Alexander troubled, because he didn't want to see him caged by rash decisions.

Alexander asked so casually if Richard wanted to put the CD on. Those CDs he kept at home in that particular drawer never saw as much light as Alexander's own; they were there almost as much as a charm or a memento as anything else. To look over them he felt glad that he had them, but the urge to _listen_ to them struck rarely, if at all. Because _that_ was before all of _this_ , wasn't it? They had managed, without thinking, to capture a moment in time that was as painful as it was fleeting. Richard had bought those recordings and listened to them in that year after Alexander had graduated, listened to them and could only think, even then, of those few times he'd seen Alexander perform. He'd gone from cassette to CD, the clarity of quality some years later only bringing those feelings into focus, of adolescent desire and frustration and regret and _there_ in those recordings lay the doors to memories that would leave Richard reeling for days afterward.

And years went by and became decades, and things changed - relationships, careers, points of view. Pain lessened and in some places died out completely, but there would still be those moments where Richard would find those CDs, and in a moment of misplaced nostalgia, press play before he could change his mind. His feelings were different now, but that didn't stop the music from stirring up some memory of _what had been_. The Alexander who had been able to single-mindedly concentrate on one thing and one thing alone. Who was content to do so. Who didn't think to consider there might be something beyond that. The Alexander of his youth, who had been considerate and cruel both at once, the former leading to the latter without any purpose or intention. The Alexander that Richard had watched, back then, surrounded by his fellow members of the choir but in those moments, dominating the space with the sound and power of his voice. Everybody could listen, but who really _heard_? Richard remembered having thoughts like that, back then. Everybody could see him perform, but who was really _watching_ him...? Here was an excuse to concentrate on him - in public, no less - in all the ways that Richard felt that he shouldn't. He could set the CD going and he was back there as the first notes played, before Alexander's voice came anywhere _near_ the melody itself.

Those CDs were like a time capsule to _back then_ , and it had taken Richard long enough to come this far, to reach a point at which he didn't feel them necessary. It was enough to know that he had them and could listen to them if he chose, but that he also had the option _not_ to listen to them. That he had the option to be here, now, in Alexander's front room with hot drinks between them, spending time together because they _could_. Memory of that time was certainly important, for where else were the foundations of the current moment built upon? But to say that, a lot had been built since. Richard didn't _need_ to remember Alexander's voice of twenty years ago, because he had the Alexander of now to talk to, to speak of things that mattered and of things that didn't.

Alexander rose to look over his collection himself, a few moments later. "I thought you'd want something on," he said. Richard didn't particularly feel any need for this, but let Alexander think what he wanted. And he saw Alexander look over _that section_ himself, just for a moment, even touching the spine to pull it out in some moment of curiosity--... but he didn't, and picked something else, and Richard felt glad for it. Alexander came back to the sofa with words of praise for his current selection, and that was fine. Perhaps he had his own feelings towards those particular CDs - they couldn't be the same as Richard's own, but there was no reason to believe that they couldn't be _something_. Thinking back to how he'd been back then, what form did he take in his own memories? Perhaps his own dreams and desires were tangled up between those notes, the constant reminder of _what could have been_.

 _What could have been_ , indeed.

"... Do you regret it, though?" Some time later, Richard's train of thought still stalled. The conversation had since moved on, and Alexander looked up at him with slight confusion.

"Hm? What's that?"

"Not going through with, you know, all the singing stuff. Not like you weren't good at it."

Some sort of wistful look passed over Alexander's expression, but he shook his head. "We've been through this before though, haven't we? It would be a lie to say I'd never _thought_ about it, wondered how it would have been and what it would have been like, but _regret_? I don't think those thoughts could be _that_ strong. If I were to have done that, then think of all of the things I couldn't have done...! I wonder if we'd even be sat here at this table now as we are, if I'd taken that path. It might not seem it but they're busy people, Richard. Concerts and tours and events... it's a year-round business. Rather than sat here with you in the comfort of my own home, I'd be... I don't know, somewhere in Europe, perhaps. Internationally or nationally, I'd be somewhere that wasn't here, sharing teas and coffee with you, able to relax on my weekend." He couldn't help a small smile. "Why do you ask? Would you rather us separated by bodies of water and country borders more often? I think I'm quite settled here, to be honest with you."

The part of Richard that still bristled at those adolescent memories almost felt the need to protest this line of thought even as Alexander spoke it - _no, I don't want you anywhere but here--!_ Those feelings never went away completely, but he was able now to recognise when they weren't strictly needed. He didn't want Alexander anywhere else, and Alexander didn't want to _be_ anywhere else, so... where was the problem? Surely, there was none at all. Richard appreciated the silence of the room and the warmth of the mug as he brought it to his lips, leaving that space before giving any sort of an answer.

"I just can't be rid of you, can I? Fortunately for you. Besides, do you have any _idea_ how difficult it would be to secure recording blocks, with you off around the country - or out of it - all the time? Impossible, that's what it'd be. No, I think it's best you stay where I know I can find you."

Alexander raised his mug of tea, "Well, I'm glad my life choices make things easier for _you_...!" He took a drink from it before setting it back on the table, "Maybe I should make things difficult for you, sometime. Just to see what would happen."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Maybe I should!"

"I'm agreeing with you...! You're always so responsible, why _not_ throw caution to the wind?"

Alexander took his mug back, sitting back into the sofa with that wistful expression surfacing once more. "Maybe if I wasn't here, I would be."

"You're saying I'm holding you back?"

"I'm saying you're holding me down, Richard."

"Oh, _hello_."

"Come on, you know what I mean."

"I know, I know."

Richard also knew there was a lot that could have been said there, for responsibilities and irresponsibilities and the need, sometimes, to just do _something--..._ but like the knowledge of Alexander's career path, this was something that they both knew well without having to state it _again_. They'd been there before. They remembered. If they wanted, they could let familiar songs guide them back to old memories, but that was only if they _wanted_. Richard liked to think that they didn't need that anymore, and felt comfortable in the knowledge that Alexander would do nothing but simply agree with him.

 

 

 

_end_


End file.
